


Buffalo Wing Wilds Interrogation Scene

by skuxie



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24993049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuxie/pseuds/skuxie
Kudos: 1





	Buffalo Wing Wilds Interrogation Scene

The third booth to the right of the door. Close to the bathrooms, but not  _ too _ close. A perfect view of the best TV in the restaurant. Fiona Graham sat in the same booth she always occupied, eyes fixated on the sports game that was playing on screen. An empty tray that used to hold an order of everything pretzel knots, and a half-empty glass of beer decorated the table before her. She checked the old, worn out knock-off Rolex on her wrist for the sixth time in the past ten minutes. 6:13. He was late. Fiona sighed, slouching in her seat. If there was one thing that she wasn’t, it was patient. She toyed with the paper on her empty plate, staring at the patterns of grease on its surface, trying to pick out shapes and faces. 

“Fiona?” A deep voice inquired. Fiona snapped to attention, looking up… and up… and up… six feet and three inches up at a man with shoulder length black hair and a friendly smile. 

Fiona sat up straight and flicked her bangs out of her face. “Miss Graham is fine. Mister Midgley?” 

The man laughed, and plopped down in the seat across the table. The table shook. “Yeah! You can call me Awan. It’s nice to meet you, Fio--Oop! Sorry! Miss Graham!” Before Fiona had a second to process, Awan had flagged down a server and gotten a tall glass of ice water. “Sorry I’m late, I got lost on the way here. Accidentally went to the one in Valley Stream.... Twice! Haha!” 

Fiona nodded incredulously. “I mean… common mistake, right?”

Awan gulped down his glass of water in a matter of seconds. It was instantly refilled by one of the waitresses. “It’s happened to you too? Haha, I thought it was just me!” 

Fiona raised her brows, watching the man down the second glass. “Oh yeah, all the time. Sometimes I’ll end up in Vermont on my way to McDonalds.” She responded, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. 

He didn’t pick up on it. “Totally, totally.” He set the now empty glass down on the table. The waitress returned to fill it up again. He smiled at her with a smile that lit up his eyes. 

Fiona waited until the waitress left, then continued talking. “You really like water, don’t you? Not the ‘Beer. Wings. Sports.’ type?” She eyed the man, hoping to absorb as much information on him with small talk as she could before delving in the reason for their meeting up.

“Me? Oh heavens no. Some of my gym buddies joke around, call me a lightweight. I tell them that I'm a heavyweight where it matters! Right? Haha!” He looked proud of his own joke, expecting Fiona to laugh.

Fiona blinked, then faked a laugh. “Haha! Good one!” She tipped her glass at him. “If you’re not gonna claim the heavyweight drinking champ title, I will.” She grinned, then downed the rest of her beer. The man had his goofy smile back on his face, and laughed his easy laugh. Fiona wiped her lips off with her sleeve, then folded her hands together and leaned in towards her companion. “Boxer, huh?”

The question seemed to excite Awan, and he clapped his hands once before speaking. “Yeah! I go to this really good gym on Mulberry street. We’ve got a really good group of people. We actually have our own amateur boxing tournament going on right now! You should come check it out some time! I’ll text you the address, we’re there every Wednesday and Friday! Definitely come down some time. We’ve got guys and girls, it's really a cool group. I think you’d love it.”

Fiona’s eyes went wide. His words were excited and hard to follow, and she fought the urge to respond that they had only just met and that she didn’t have the time to join an amateur boxing tournament, but he seemed genuine enough that she couldn’t break his heart. “Sounds good. I’ll have to check you guys out some time.” She murmured, instead.

“It’ll be awesome dude, I promise.” Awan smiled. It seemed to be his default expression. His glass was empty yet again, and like clockwork, the waitress was back to fill it as quickly as possible. “The service here is great, huh?”

Fiona looked at her own glass that had been sitting empty for the past five minutes. “Sure is.”

“I feel like I have a magic cup that refills itself instantly or something. Haha.”

“Totally, totally.” Fiona responded, imitating her companion’s earlier words. She was normally good at playing buddy-buddy before diving into interrogation-mode, but the man before her had a special way of leaving her feeling like she was losing her grip on reality. “So. Mister Midgley--”

“Awan.” 

“....Awan.” Fiona flicked her bangs out of her eyes again. “Awan, I asked you to meet up with me here because I’m in search of some vital information. I’m investigating the death of Eric Winston.” Awan’s eyes went wide, and he set his glass back down on the table without finishing it.  _ Got him. _ “You knew him. Do you have any information you’d like to share with me?”

The man looked distraught, needing a second to respond. “Erick White is dead? I just saw him this morning…Man… That’s such a bummer.”

Fiona’s face scrunched up in confusion. “No, not Erick White. I said Eric  _ Winston _ . I don’t even know who Erick White is.”

Awan’s face lit up and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Whew! Man, you got me good! Don’t scare me like that next time. If my boy Erick was gone, I don’t know WHO I could trust to spot me, haha.” He paused, considering something for a second, then speaking again. “I mean… that’s no chill that Mister Witten died--”

“Winston.”

“--Winston. No chill that dude died, but I’m glad it wasn’t  **_Erick_ ** Erick, and that it was just Eric. I mean… Not  _ glad,  _ but...you get what I mean. RIP.” 

Fiona sat, dumbfounded for a solid ten seconds before figuring out how to respond to what she had just heard. “You’re telling me you have no idea who Eric Winston was?”

Awan shrugged. “I guess so.”

Fiona fished a picture out of her bag, and slid it onto the table. A bald, gruff looking Caucasian man with the word ‘Garrote’ written in cursive on his left cheekbone stared back at the pair. “This man?”

Awan pointed at the image in recognition, “No, I know him! That’s the bald guy who got me my new job. I used to do some personal trainer stuff for him, but he stopped showing up about a week ago. I wonder what happened to him…”

Fiona stared at Awan, watching the two cogs in his mind slowly turn. He gasped.  _ There you go, buddy. _ “Aw man… That’s a bummer. I mean… He was kind of mean and didn’t really take me seriously, but hey, he got me my new job so I gotta be grateful for that at least. Hope his family is doing alright.”

“He doesn’t have any family.”

“Oh good! I mean… Not good, but… You know what I mean.”

“I sure do.” Increasing impatience urged Fiona to pry a little bit harder. “Anyway, Awan. You keep mentioning this ‘new job’. Must be a pretty sweet gig, huh?”

Awan began his water drinking world record again as he spoke. “Yeah! I mean, I just started like a week and a half ago. I haven’t really done much yet. I’m supposed to be a bodyguard for this super important chick or something. Ariana…? Something, I dunno. Her last name is Moore though! I don’t really know much yet, but it pays  _ really _ well, which is cool. I don’t know why she’d need a bodyguard, but I’m not going to question it. Why question a good thing, y’know?” 

“Totally, totally.” Fiona said again. It was clear she wasn’t getting anywhere with this man, and doubted she had the patience to continue at the moment. “Awan, I hate to cut this short because it’s really been awesome chatting with you, but I have some business to attend to-- another meeting, unfortunately-- we’ll have to find another time to meet up.” 

“For sure! Nice meeting you, Miss Graham! Make sure to stop by the gym. I’ll text you the address right now so I don’t forget!”

“Perfect.” Fiona got to her feet, jammed the photo back into her bag and left the booth. She had no idea what had just happened. She had no idea what kind of person she had just interacted with, but one thing was for sure. He was no criminal.


End file.
